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Journal | Archives
I walk into my ECE lab and, being the first actual lab of the semester, I have to choose a partner. To my right, a cute girl by herself. To my left, a guy. Being intimidated, I choose the left side, only to question my choice later.
It turns out to be a good choice, because Kevin is taking cs373 and cs333 as well, so I have a new homework buddy and such. He is the second person I've come across that's enrolled in the three major-related classes I'm taking (I'm meeting the other person next week most likely).
And I've discovered one of the most awesome, jackass prank a CS major could pull. (At least I think so.)
When DCL is swarming with kiddies during finals week, I'm going to set up shop in the basement and, out of nowhere, I'm going to get up and shout, ‘Holy shit! I did it! I found a polynomial solution to an NP-complete problem!!’ and run out all ecstatic and wild and frazzled.
But maybe it won't work out as planned. Everyone will think that I'm on crack and ignore me and my words.
If all goes well, I'll be more flexible and quick – and possibly thinner – come December. Wushu should be fun.
And I've decided on an annual ritual on the night of my birthdays. Not sure if I should do it again this year. I have a few days to decide.
My hair looks better this morning – immediately after getting out of bed – than it did last night.
It's confusing, really. I remember when my chili bowlesque style required me to drench my hair each morning to flatten all the strands that stuck up from sleeping. I haven't combed my hair much in the past four months and I still wake up every morning with hair that's fairly intact (as far as avoiding ‘bed hair’).
Is this because I shampoo everyday?
Ryan, recalling the tale of a mutual friend [who shall remain unnamed and henceforth be referred to as Mr. X] in which Mr. X and his roommate each walked in on each other masturbating within the span of a few days, possibly to ridicule Hannah:
…which was total coincidence, because guys masturbate, like, once a month.
And then Ryan's rendition of the reaction of The Detachment Kit members, when Mr. X made up a story about him and his roommate sharpening knives in the hallway when all of a sudden his roommate starts masturbating – something like, ‘Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, woh…’ – it was all golden.
Maybe it's just me – and you definitely had to be there since I can't retell it like it should be – but I had a good many laughs.
I've been wondering what I want to get tattoed, and where to get it tattoed, for 2–3 years. I know one of the what's.
Eye of Horus.
journal entry, day 9 of the unproductive
I put six soda cans in the refrigerator to cool them down quickly.
Ryan and Hannah came down to visit folks, so I ate dinner with them, and then we came back to the aparmtnet and I learned to play Guillotine and Munchkin, both of which are pretty fun, though I like Munchkin better. I might just have to buy it.
We went to Paige's a bit later for her party extravaganza, which wasn't bad. Fun and funny at many points, meh at others. But she was playing a DVD by Richard Kern through an LCD projector onto the wall, which was pretty neat. And hot.
Rain followed. I get back home. Andrew tells me that four of the six sodas never made it to consumption.
They exploded.
Which.
For folks in Chambana, Jerry's IGA is having a sale on Edy's ice cream – the Ben & Jerry knock-offs – at $0.99 a pint! That's like $2 off all normal stores. All you need to do is sign up for their discount shopping card. The sale ends tomorrow.
It's so worth. Like 10 pints worth it.
I've decided to put up the old photos from the previous site. I initially wanted to rescan, revamp, etc., but that would deprive the public for several weeks to come. Most of you have already seen these at least five times. Humblest apologies.
Some of those photos are making me miss the Oregon house.
Because of my ‘treachery’ for skipping Barfly (even when I wasn't sure I wanted to go) in lieu of Pee Wee's Big Adventure and such at Asma's, someone changed my desktop. And that forced me to reexamine the options I had for desktop wallpaper.
I almost went with one of my Miyu pics, and then stumbled upon ‘Moon flower’, which is more interesting than ‘Bliss’. Your plans failed, mee hee hee hee.
For being the 7th useless day in a row, this evening turned out to be nice. However, if I want to become a free lance in three months, I need to learn to make sacrifices and get things done.
‘I just had the greatest idea in the world: Cluck-N-Fuck. It's [a] fried chicken-slash-whorehouse [place]. Or, we'll it Chicken-N-Dickin'’.
In other news, Toby had heard ‘Spacegrass’ many years ago and even recited a line to it on cue, and much to my surprise.
It's the little gems that make life sparkle.
The world has lost John Ritter. This is disheartening. I started watching Three's Company back when I was 4.
I've been making my bed everyday for the last two weeks, down to brushing off my ever-shedding hair. And my room has been fairly orderly – there's a place for everything, keeping the tiny bit of empty floor space empty. My bed isn't even half-occupied with junk.
This is a first.
(Unfortunately, no other improvements – useful, needed, or otherwise – have been made yet.)
(Oh yeah, my goal to break the 1000 points mark in Snake II was accomplished twice while I was in the music studio yesterday, despite my countless attempts in the days prior. The only possible solution I can see is that I had my arms and such supported by a desk in the studio. Otherwise, it's a mystery why my playing improved so drastically in that environment. Why do you people even read this stuff?)
I had three major dreams last night – which may have been interrelated – and they all dealt with things that happened from yesterday evening and on. Very strange; I rarely have dreams that deal with recent events.
Banish the extreme right wing. Peace.
What most people don't realize about Juvenile the rapper is that he made quite possibly the first bounce song ever. (Or at least the one that started the buzz.)
And for those not in the know, bounce is New Orleans's flavor of booty bass dance music.
‘Bounce for the Juvenile’.
So tonight's talk on pi was interesting, due largely in part to the enthusiasm of the speaker, Eric Dunn. He talked about the evolution of seeking out decimal places to pi through predominantly geometric means, such as Ludolf Van Ceulan, who used Archimedes's method of exhaustion and a 32 billion sided polygon – in honor of his efforts, pi is nicknamed the Ludolfian number – to some beautiful equations (such as the one above, where pi/2 is equal to the infinite product of squared even numbers over the infinite product of squared odd numbers; the formula for e is thrown in for the hell of it, because that's also pretty), and other equations by Ramanujan, which are insane.
He also mentioned some uses of pi, like testing the correctness of computer chips by seeing if they can calculate the first 100,00 digits of pi accurately (which ensures billions upon billions of accurate calculations), and the randomness of pi as being a good basis for a random number generator. Etc.
And then as a sort of finale, Eric had someone throw an apple pie in his face. Which was a waste of an applie pie, but funny nonetheless.
He also gave out huge Pixy Stix in the end because he couldn't get pizzas (tomato pi) due to budget cuts. So, Pixy, containing ‘pi’ along with being all he could afford, was the logical substitute. I might have to snort some tonight.
(During freshman or sophomore year of high school, when we went on a Spanish field trip, me and my friends Nick and Mark were killing time during intermission by snorting many little Pixy Stix. I also knocked a packet of Fun Dip in Mark's face. It just seemed like perfect timing. Too much sugar that day, though. Sickeningly so.)
And all was well when I got back home: two McDonald's double cheeseburgers in hand; a very relaxed atmosphere; tired and ready to crash on the sofa for a bit.
And then I got something which really bugged me. Puts me in an ackward position. Makes me want to create an equation to solve all of humanity's problems, or destroy it if possible. Nothing terribly big, I suppose, but nothing I personally want to deal with.
If I could be a movie producer (or whatever it is in the hierarchy that'd allow me to do the following), I would scrap out the sad, happy, sinister, and hip songs that play through the credits. Instead, I'd start ending somewhere in the second half of ‘7 Jam’ and, as the credits are about to roll, ‘7 Jam’ would then roll into ‘Tim Sults vs The Greys’. It's such a badass thing to do, yes?
The only stipulation is that there needs to be a movie worthy of this. Maybe I should write a script based loosely on the lyrics of Clutch? ‘Big News I’ is a great start to a movie.
Eh, so I've been ‘obsessing’ over this album for three weeks now, to the point where I want to try writing a ‘Big News III’. Big Deal.
(I've lately been getting a lot of ideas – many of them dumb – while walking around. With Clutch playing, of course. Hence the obsession.)
Family Guy, Volume 2 is on the way. Hurray. Rejoice.
At 5 PM today in 151 Everitt Laboratory, the following will take place:
In this seminar we will explore the magic and mystery behind pi. We will cover hundreds of years of human struggle (from philosophers to lawyers to scientists) trying to understand pi beginning with Ahmes in 1650 BCE and ending with work as recent as last year. We will discuss why electrical and computer engineers should care about pi and present an algorithm on how to compute any arbitrary digit of pi. This seminar, given by the energetic and enthusiastic Eric Dunn, promises to be an educational hour you will never forget.
Rock on.
(Please note that I've read a book on e – the mathematical constant – in high school. Constants intrigue me.)
Q: What do cows use to talk to each other while on the go?
(hit Ctrl+A to reveal the answer)
A: Moobile cowmunications! Hah!
